1405 5 4
|
We sat up in bed. It's two o'clock in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.
|
140532
|
What do you want me to tell you about this next full moon cycle that you don't already intuitively seem to have touched upon in your latest bout of almost there dreams? It too will pass? That it is a totally different unfair animal from the repellent one already…
|
140534
|
Ascent/Assent
Together the horizon/
Catechism of love
|
140544
|
The bartender kept looking at himself in the mirror behind the bar. “Everyone in Hollywood is an actor,” Doc said.
|
14052512
|
|
140564
|
You left paint and blood smeared on the wall.
|
140550
|
Condensation on the Glass Riding down 22, I'm looking out the window. Time is a whirlwind. Your memory relinquishes itself, yellowed and fraying at the edges. It's raining and cold. I make a smiley face in the condensation …
|
140553
|
“There is a fine line between love and hatred.” This was what his closest friend, Bob Sanders, had said to him many years ago. And it had finally and irrevocably proven to be so.
|
140420
|
He had a lean build, except, remarkably, his midsection was perfectly barrel-like. As if he kept an alien lifeform in his belly, cultivated by years of Pabst and Yuengling transfusions.
|
140454
|
I would advise the younger you to change your underpants, and not to let those boys do the talking for you.
|
140453
|
This mother, she buys a one way ticket
whenever she visits her three daughters
who have wandered far from the eyes of
her pearlescent knitting needles and tutti-frutti yarns.
|
140400
|
“We are NOT starving!” I stated emphatically. “What ever gave you the idea that you are starving? Honestly, Annie, you are so melodramatic. You have food in front of you right now, don’t you?’ I said pointing to her plate of potatoes and so
|
1404107
|
“What do you want for Father's Day?” she asks. “Sex,” he says, his mouth curling at the corners, “and a bottle of Shiraz.” …
|
140421
|
He stood in front of her. They stood eye to eye. "You aren't supposed to look me in the eye. If I were anyone else you would be smacked down on the ground right now. Treat me as you would a lover, your master."
|
140400
|
Grayson Warren is living the American Dream: a 15-year career as a city cop, a great wife and two kids. And then one day his dream turns into a nightmare.
|
140475
|
|
140443
|
The shirts hanging by the back veranda serve as our memorial to them.
|
140411
|
When people talk about the end moments when one's life flashes before his or her eyes, they often refer to time as slowing down. I can attest to this phenomenon during my final moments, before the collision: the song playing on the radio, the squeal of tires and flash of…
|
140410
|
We called him Mickey Habanero, because he could fill his mouth with the hottest food imaginable, the kind packed with the sort of heat that would melt the gums from the teeth of a novice, all without taking a drink of milk or anything else that would otherwise soothe the…
|
140450
|
"The Chinese don't have no Mardy Grah, bitch."
|
1404117
|
|
140400
|
He rolls in unbidden across the stubble fields /
Old acquaintance astride a newly booming cloud/
Under sky an alien shade of strawberries whipped/
Her watch stops ticking out the rest of her/
scheduled breathing poses
|
140455
|
There are certain items in the sink that are giving me an anxious feeling in my stomach.
|
140463
|
Whenever trees or limbs fell in isolate forests—well, no narrators were ever to be found, not even beneath the larger tree trunks or under the fallen limbs.
|
140411
|
Suddenly the producer, Irving, tosses a new idea into the discussion, an idea for a possible film. Then the writer, Herbert, does the talking. He performs, in fact, puts on a one-man show. The idea! The idea! It's…
|
140466
|
And here’s a picture of you
at the end of the line
to the great toilet of
fiction, waiting to
relieve yourself, quick
before the poetry gets to you.
Or worse, the actual
poets.
|
1404126
|
It comes to me at night, the monster. I don't even realize it's in the room until I hear it breathing behind me. It reaches out its hands and places them on my shoulders. Its fingers are furry and soft, but strong. They grasp the muscles on either side of my neck, and I…
|
140453
|
The mother, a pony-tailed beauty, thinks she looks fat in her
new blue-checked pedal pushers and white blouse tied
under her full breasts— in the latest style.
|
140300
|
A brick from the parapet splat down later as I was applying a bitter healing powder, made from the seeds of watermelons, to my raw tongue.
|
140362
|
She buried her secrets in a bowl of brownie mix....
|
